


Someone to Watch Over Me

by hopeless_eccentric



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gyms, Humor, Kissing, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Nureyev being a smitten wreck, Other, and i dont care about anything other than nureyev spotting for juno, i was thinkin like. what if theres a gym on the carte blanche, just. the inherent intimacy of guiding someones arms, keeping them safe.........taking care of them.....man, the inherent homoeroticism of spotting for someone, this is like emotional hurt/comfort without the hurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-14 21:27:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28927287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopeless_eccentric/pseuds/hopeless_eccentric
Summary: It was a simple enough question, even if it rang through Peter Nureyev’s head like wedding bells.His answer should have been obviously affirmative. It was the kind of question asked not to make a request, but merely because ordering such a thing would be deemed rude. Nureyev swallowed anyway. He blinked. He watched in real time as Juno’s brow furrowed, seeming to think Nureyev had missed his words altogether.When his lips parted once more, Nureyev knew exactly which words were going to come out, a little louder and a little more patient than the last time they had cut through the near-silent exercise room of the Carte Blanche.“Hey, Nureyev, will you spot for me?”
Relationships: Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel
Comments: 18
Kudos: 90
Collections: peter nureyev is sexy with a knife TPP fics (read)





	Someone to Watch Over Me

**Author's Note:**

> hey all!! no content warnings on this one, just some nice, incredibly self-indulgent fluff
> 
> For any wondering, spotting refers to basically keeping an eye on someone's form when they're doing especially difficult weight work! it's not Technically intimate but......it could be....*eye emoji* also this means nothing to the story but lady has nice biceps send tweet that's my only hc for his appearance it's just a trench coat and nice biceps and more ass than nureyev

It was a simple enough question, even if it rang through Peter Nureyev’s head like wedding bells.

His answer should have been obviously affirmative. It was the kind of question asked not to make a request, but merely because ordering such a thing would be deemed rude. Nureyev swallowed anyway. He blinked. He watched in real time as Juno’s brow furrowed, seeming to think Nureyev had missed his words altogether.

When his lips parted once more, Nureyev knew exactly which words were going to come out, a little louder and a little more patient than the last time they had cut through the near-silent exercise room of the Carte Blanche.

“Hey, Nureyev, will you spot for me?”

“Of course,” he all but coughed out his reply, making his way over behind Juno’s bench and laying his hands upon his shoulders, for otherwise, he worried they might have twitched or fumbled or betrayed something of the violent sparking in his chest.

“You don’t have any master thief stretches you still have to do or anything?” Juno snorted, catching Nureyev’s rolling eyes in the mirror.

“I’m well cooled down by now, love.”

“Then what the hell are you sticking around for?” Juno teased.

“Your biceps, dear,” Nureyev chuckled in return. “Now, I assume you’re going about the standard procedure?”

“They don’t lift weights differently on Mars,” Juno shrugged. “Just keep me from injuring either one of us, and we should be good. Think you can handle that, or are your eyes gonna get lost on my biceps?”

“Oh, do be quiet,” Nureyev huffed, just to cover the way his heart leapt at the implications.

He didn’t doubt the gesture seemed normal to Juno, who had asked the question in a tone that belied no romance. In fact, he doubted the luxury of spotting for Juno Steel was his alone when it came to those members of the crew who happened to be in the gym at the same time as Juno.

That didn’t stop his usually steady hands from nearly shaking with something that resembled electric shock when they made their way to their positions.

Spotting itself wasn’t a romantic gesture. One merely rested their hands upon the arms of another to keep their form and prevent injury. However, that useless organ in between his ribs that he was growing increasingly and dangerously fond of with every passing day seemed to disagree with this known fact.

Juno began the first repetition without much difficulty, though every subtle movement of Nureyev’s fingers seemed to take as much effort as a challenging heist or a particularly personal conversation. He kept them steady nonetheless, knowing well his singular goal in life was to be dedicated to this duty.

He didn’t need any particular skills of deduction to know Juno felt far differently about the matter than him. His eye was drawn tight with focus, fixed on the mirror as he made subtle corrections when he began to lean one way or the other or when the angle of his elbows, gently worshipped by Nureyev’s fingertips, curved in the wrong direction.

To Juno Steel, spotting was another part of a routine that just happened to involve another person.

Perhaps Peter Nureyev was a bit touch starved, but he couldn’t help but see the matter in a different light.

The request to serve this purpose had ached with so many more words than Juno could ever realize. On the one hand, he was requesting assistance, openly and trustingly, from someone who was so seldom trusted. He asked not to be helped along with an exercise, but for Nureyev to stand guardian behind him, prayerful hands moving up and down with every inch that his goddess’s arms carved through the stale, recycled air.

It was a question that meant so much more than a favor. It was a call for guidance and assistance and trust. As one repetition became two and two repetitions became four, Juno’s arms began to slow and tire, resting more and more upon Nureyev’s hands.

“Keep going if you can, my love,” he murmured, almost veneratingly so.

“I think I’ve got a few more in me,” Juno chuckled, though the sound was so punched out Nureyev wanted nothing more than to close his hands around Juno’s wrists and bear the weight for him.

He knew better than to do so. Perhaps the sweetest part of his duty was the knowledge of his purpose. Juno had chosen his burden and promised to know his limits, carving his own mountain and peak to reach. However, when the load became too heavy to bear and he wearied, perhaps dangerously so, Nureyev stood ready at his back to hold his burden and keep him from harm.

Even if the mountain had been carved by Juno’s hands, that did not erase it of ledges. Nureyev stood straight and let his hands bear what strain Juno’s arms could not, even if a soft breath passed his lips in the process. He was all too ready to pull his lover from the drop at the mountain’s edge, should he waver and stray too close.

“I think this is it,” Juno grimaced once his arms came down once more, trusting that Peter Nureyev would be there to guide them even when the ache of the weights’ burden began to shake them from their former confidence.

“Do you think you have one more, my dear?” Nureyev prompted.

Juno paused, meeting his eye in the mirror.

Even in reflection, Juno Steel brought such light to the room that the overly bright glow from overhead seemed to wither at the very sight of his gaze. It was equally beautiful in wide-eyed moments of gentle conversations and when drawn sharp in his focus, and either way, it made Nureyev’s breathing stop.

However, the expression that met his gaze in the mirror was not the one Juno had worn when counting his repetitions and breaths in equal measure. It was soft and almost sweet, holding all those things Nureyev hadn’t been able to put into words to describe why he had taken so long to agree to spot for Juno.

“Don’t do anything if you’re afraid it’ll hurt you, my love,” Nureyev started again, giving Juno’s arms a gentle squeeze. “There’s no shame in not being able to push yourself too far, especially with the heist coming up this week.”

“I think I’ve got one more,” Juno finally conceded with a breathless nod. “Thanks, Nureyev.”

“It’s my pleasure,” Nureyev smiled. He doubted Juno could fathom just how truthful the statement had been.

Juno’s arms faltered half of the way up, and remembering his duties as if they had been tattooed into his skin, Nureyev helped to hold him in place for just a moment, counting every breath and heartbeat that went by until Juno nodded and began to raise his elbows on his own once more. Perhaps he could not lift Juno’s burdens for him, but he could, at times, make the load a little kinder on someone whose shoulders already bore the weight of the world.

“There you are, love,” Nureyev grinned, something warm and soft and sweet and utterly out of place blooming in his chest when Juno’s arms, trembling with exertion, reached their peak. “Remember to go down slowly.”

“I know how to lift weights, Nureyev,” Juno snorted, though the way back down was particularly steady.

“Is that all?”

“Yeah,” Juno breathed. “Yeah, I think that’s all I’ve got in me.”

“Was that six?”

“Seven,” Juno beamed, though the smile was sloppy with the effort it took for him to catch his breath. “At a new weight too.”

“That’s wonderful,” Nureyev returned, mirroring the look.

He had expected, woefully, that his duties, once so tender and reverent, would be reduced to throwing Juno a towel and perhaps, rubbing his shoulders before bed. However, once Juno had dropped the weights a safe distance from both of their toes, he wheeled around and dragged Nureyev closer by the front of the shirt.

Nureyev wasn’t entirely sure what had prompted the kiss, but he certainly wasn’t complaining.

“My dear, you must give your poor lungs a rest,” Nureyev chuckled, loathe to part from the embrace, even if it was half-blocked by the bench Juno had been leaning back upon and in general, one of the less sterile kisses of his entire life.

“You kept looking at me like some kind of kicked puppy the whole time,” Juno snorted as he rolled off the bench and grabbed his towel for himself. “You were making me feel bad.”

“Beg pardon?” Nureyev all but scoffed. “Whatever could you mean—”

“Nureyev,” Juno broke him off.

“I was merely fulfilling my role,” Nureyev huffed.

“Keep telling yourself that,” Juno snorted, slinging the towel over his shoulder as he turned towards the showers.

Juno didn’t depart without leaving anything behind, however, for he leaned up to press a kiss to Nureyev’s cheek before turning away entirely.

“Thanks for the help, Nureyev,” he smiled in earnest.

“It was my pleasure,” Nureyev trailed off as Juno left the room, finding it strange that he of all people should have been left breathless by the whole affair.

**Author's Note:**

> fuck i miss the gym so much
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading!! Make sure to SMASH that kudos button and leave a comment down below or ill make you drop and give me twenty and by that i mean dollars dont worry about pushups i love you all so much take care of yourselves hydrate or diedrate
> 
> Check me out on tumblr @hopeless-eccentric or on twitter @withane22 !!


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